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Evelyn’s POV

I stared at the small candle in the center of the table with a faint smile that was slowly becoming exhausting. The tiny flame flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the wine glass and the bouquet of white roses in front of me.

This rooftop restaurant was beautiful. Too beautiful for someone who had been sitting alone for almost two hours.

I glanced at the watch on my wrist.

9:43 PM.

Damien still had not arrived. Again.

“Excuse me, Madam. Would you like us to serve the food now?” the waiter asked carefully for the third time that night.

I lifted my head and forced a polite smile. “Just a little longer.”

A sentence even I no longer believed.

Today was our third wedding anniversary. Three years of being Evelyn Sinclair, the wife of Damien Sinclair, the heir of the Sinclair family who always looked perfect in the eyes of the world.

Young CEO. Handsome. Wealthy. Elegant. Nearly flawless.

At least, that was what everyone believed.

I lowered my gaze to the wedding ring on my finger and let out a quiet sigh. I did not know when our marriage had turned into something so cold and exhausting.

Damien was always busy.

Always working and always full of excuses.

He was not like this before. Back then, he would arrive early just to see me, even willing to cancel meetings just because I had a mild flu.

Back then, I never had to wonder whether he loved me.

Back then, Damien used to look at me as if I was the only woman in the world.

Now?

Even our anniversary was less important than his work.

I picked up my phone again. His last message was still on the screen.

[Emergency meeting. Wait for me.]

The message had been sent three hours ago.

I almost laughed reading it. It was ridiculous how I was still waiting for a man who clearly no longer considered me a priority.

  Yet I stayed.

Like an idiot still hoping he would walk through that door with an apologetic smile and tell me I mattered to him.

Heavy rain poured outside the restaurant windows, making the city lights look blurred and shimmering. I stared at the view for a long time until suddenly my phone vibrated.

My eyes lit up immediately.

I thought Damien was finally calling.

But my smile slowly disappeared when I saw an unfamiliar number on the screen. A photo came in without any message attached.

For some reason, my chest suddenly tightened.

I opened the photo slowly.

Within one second, my entire body froze.

The picture showed a man sitting on the edge of a hotel bed with his white shirt half open. A woman was hugging him from behind while pressing her lips intimately against his neck.

I recognized the man instantly.

Damien.

My husband.

My hands trembled so violently that I almost dropped my phone. My breathing caught in my throat.

“No.”

The word came out as nothing more than a whisper.

This had to be wrong. Edited. Someone trying to destroy my marriage.

Because no matter how distant Damien had become I still could not imagine him betraying me like this.

But before I could think further, another photo came in.

This time it was clearer.

Damien’s face was visible from the side. His eyes were closed while the woman kissed his neck affectionately.

Then my chest felt like it had been stabbed.

On the table beside the bed was the watch I had bought as his anniversary gift tonight. The same watch he claimed he had not had time to pick up because he was too busy working.

It felt like the world stopped spinning.

Under the photo, a message appeared.

[Thank you for lending me your husband tonight.]

I stared at the screen until my vision blurred with tears. It felt as if someone was slowly tearing my heart apart.

No.

Damien could not have done this.

Not tonight.

Not on our anniversary.

Not after everything I sacrificed for him.

Yet deep inside, I knew the photos were real. My instincts already knew the answer before I even tried denying it.

Maybe that was why it hurt so much.

Because a part of me had already noticed the changes in him long ago.

Late nights, emotional distance, rare touches, and the way he barely looked at me anymore.

But I kept pretending not to see it because loving Damien had become a habit I could not break.

My fingers moved on their own, zooming in on the image. Then I noticed the hotel logo reflected in the mirror behind them.

Monarch Grand Hotel.

My heart pounded violently.

I stood up too quickly, causing my chair to scrape loudly and nearly fall over. The waiter from earlier immediately looked alarmed.

“Madam, are you alright?”

I did not answer. I grabbed my bag and walked out of the restaurant as fast as I could.

The rain slammed against my body the moment I stepped out of the taxi in front of the hotel. My dress was soaked. My hair was ruined. But I did not care at all.

I kept walking inside with a heart that felt ready to explode.

“Good evening, Madam.”

“What suite is Damien Sinclair staying in?” I cut in quickly.

The receptionist looked startled hearing his name. “I’m sorry, we cannot give out guest information.”

I showed her the photo on my phone with trembling hands. My face must have looked too devastated because the woman finally swallowed nervously.

“Suite 2808.”

I immediately headed for the elevator without another word.

My hands were cold. My breathing grew heavier with every second the elevator climbed toward the twenty eighth floor.

Please, don’t let this nightmare be real.

The elevator doors opened slowly.

The hotel corridor was so silent that I could hear every sound of my footsteps. I walked slowly until I finally stopped in front of the suite.

My hands trembled violently.

Then I heard it.

A woman’s laughter from inside the room.

Followed by Damien’s low and gentle voice.

A voice I had not heard directed at me in a very long time.

Something inside me shattered completely at that moment.

That soft tone used to belong to me.

I used to be the woman who could make Damien sound like that.

The suite door was not fully closed. I pushed it open slowly. My world collapsed right in front of me.

Damien stood beside the bed, holding a woman wearing a red satin robe. She laughed softly while playing with his tie flirtatiously.

The moment she saw me, she smiled with pure triumph.

“Oops,” she said casually. “Your wife is here.”

Damien’s body froze instantly. Slowly, he turned toward me.

The moment our eyes met, all color drained from his face.

“Evelyn?”

I could not speak. I could only stare at him while my body felt completely numb.

The red lipstick on his neck. His messy shirt.

The ruined bed behind them.

Every piece of evidence felt like endless slaps across my face.

This was the man I loved more than myself. I trusted him my entire life.

Damien immediately stepped closer. “Listen to me first-”q

SLAP!

The sound of my slap echoed loudly through the entire room.

Damien’s face turned to the side from the impact. Even his mistress looked shocked.

My hand trembled after hitting him, yet strangely, I felt incredibly calm now.

Calm like someone who had finally realized all her hopes had died a long time ago.

“You disgust me.”

Damien immediately grabbed my wrist.

“It’s not what you think.”

I let out a quiet laugh hearing that lie. It was almost funny how this man still thought I was stupid enough to believe him.

The woman crossed her arms and smirked. “Damien, your wife is too dramatic.”

I stared at her for a long moment.

Beautiful, young and Confident.

Wearing my husband’s shirt.

My chest hurt so badly looking at her.

Was this why Damien stopped looking at me?

Because he found someone younger? Someone more exciting?

Still, I held back every tear threatening to fall.

Slowly, I removed the wedding ring from my finger.

Damien instantly tensed.

“Evelyn, don’t joke around.”

  I saw fear in his eyes.

Not guilt. Fear.

I placed the ring on the bedside table. My gaze stayed fixed on him, empty and cold.

“I’m divorcing you.”

Damien’s expression changed drastically.

For the first time that night, I saw real panic in his eyes.

“No.”

I turned to leave.

But before I could take another step, Damien suddenly grabbed my arm harshly from behind until my body slammed against his chest.

His voice sounded low and dangerous near my ear.

“You think the Sinclair family will let you leave that easily?”